Private Lives

by Tasmina Perry

  Louise Allerton was out front of the house when they pulled up, a tanned blonde woman wearing a simple green shift dress, unpegging washing from a line strung between two wide-boughed trees. She continued with her task as Sam and Anna got out of the car and walked towards her.

  ‘Have you come about the yoga?’ she asked, picking up her basket. ‘Because I’m not giving lessons today . . . Shit, you’re Sam Charles.’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ He smiled, evidently pleased to be finally recognised. Anna rolled her eyes.

  ‘Wow. Blue Blood is one of my favourite films,’ said Louise, stuttering.

  ‘Mine too, actually. To film, that is,’ he added. ‘I hate watching my own films.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’ asked Louise, before Anna gave a theatrical cough and held out her hand.

  ‘I’m Anna Kennedy.’

  ‘Right,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘His lawyer,’ added Anna quickly.

  Louise began to look nervous.

  ‘And you’re here to see me because . . .’

  Fat spots of rain began to plop down on to the path. One, then three, then a dozen all at once. Anna squinted up, seeing the heavy dark clouds too late.

  ‘Can we come in for a minute?’ asked Sam, shrugging his shoulders as the rain began to soak his shirt.

  Louise paused, then gestured towards the house, and they all ran inside. Louise put the washing basket in the corner and closed the shutters.

  ‘Can I get you tea?’ she asked, clearly unsure of how to behave with a celebrity in her home.

  ‘Maybe we should get straight to the point,’ said Anna kindly. ‘It’s about Amy. Amy Hart.’

  Louise didn’t reply, simply turned and began taking the clothes from the washing basket, folding them and putting them away on a shelf. The rain was thrumming down on the shutters and the roof of the house. Slow and steady at first, increasing in pace until it was a roar.

  ‘What’s all this about?’ she said finally, turning back to them. ‘Research for a movie or something?’

  ‘No, we just want to find out what happened to Amy,’ said Sam.

  ‘Why do you care?’ snapped Louise, her hands on her hips. ‘You didn’t know her. Neither of you did. So why don’t you just keep out of things that don’t concern you?’

  Anna caught Sam’s worried look. She wasn’t sure how he’d expected this to go, but Anna had certainly guessed that if Louise was scared enough to leave her career and family and run halfway across the globe, she would be frightened about talking to anyone, let alone a movie star and a lawyer who had literally walked in off the street.

  ‘Look, I know this must be freaking you out a bit,’ she said gently. ‘But we’re here because Amy’s sister Ruby got in touch with me after the inquest.’

  ‘Why?’ said Louise.

  ‘Ruby wanted a lawyer to challenge the inquest result.’

  Louise turned away again, started putting dishes in the sink.

  ‘And what do you want from me?’ she said. ‘I don’t know anything.’

  ‘But you can tell us what you think,’ said Sam.

  Louise turned on the tap, then snapped it off and swung round to face them again.

  ‘Look, I hardly saw Amy for months before she died.’

  ‘But you were good friends, weren’t you?’ asked Sam.

  ‘She was my flatmate for a little while; she was lovely then,’ said Louise, a smile creeping on to her face. ‘But towards the end? We didn’t have so much in common. She was a party girl and, well, she had her own agenda.’

  ‘Agenda?’ prompted Anna.

  ‘She wanted to marry a rich man,’ said Louise. ‘Started hanging around with people who could help her towards that goal.’

  ‘She was dating someone wealthy, wasn’t she, around the time she died?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Louise snapped.

  ‘My life went to shit a while back and all I wanted to do was get away,’ ventured Sam kindly. ‘I buggered off to an island in the middle of nowhere. And you know what I realised when I was there? That it doesn’t matter where you go, you take the problem with you. You just can’t escape.’

  For a few moments they were all silent. Rain bounced off the roof like a kettle drum. Anna wasn’t going to have come all this way to let this girl curl up into a little ball and hide, however scared she was.

  ‘Louise, I think you know something about Amy’s death,’ she said. ‘Why she might have been killed.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Then why did you leave England three days afterwards? Why is your mum lying about where you are? Why are you pretending that none of this matters?’

  ‘Can’t you just leave?’

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ said Anna finally. ‘But look, I’m just a solicitor from London and he’s some bloke from the movies. We’re hardly MI6, and we found you easily enough. If someone with money and influence wanted to track you down, then believe me, they’d find you too. It’s obvious you’re frightened, but Sam’s right: you can’t run for ever. And whatever you know, we can help you.’

  The light was dim in the cottage, but Anna could see that Louise was crying now. She moved across and the girl fell into her arms, sobbing on her shoulder. Finally she began to talk.

  ‘Amy and I clicked from the minute we met. We had lots in common, liked a drink, a laugh, the London party scene. She moved into my flat, I needed a bit of help with the rent, and we’d go out every night to all the launches and parties we got invited to through my work and her modelling. Amy was focused, though. She wanted to find a rich man and started going to swankier things than I could get us invited to. I went with her a couple of times but it was just a bunch of leery old men who wanted a bit on the side. And then she met someone. I only know his name was Peter. It was Peter this and Peter that. All the places he’d take her, all the stuff he bought her. She never told me his surname – apparently he was married, so she was cagey about the details of who he was – but you could tell he was rich and influential.’ She looked up at Anna.

  ‘Was this man one of Gilbert Bryce’s friends?’

  ‘I don’t think so, but she told me she met him at a country party Gilbert took her to.’

  ‘Was it James Swann’s party?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m sorry.’

  Anna looked down, disappointed.

  ‘Can you tell me anything else about Peter?’

  ‘She was in love with him, you could tell that much. She told me she’d marry him in a heartbeat.’

  ‘But he was already married.’

  ‘I think she expected more from him, especially after he paid for that posh flat she was in by the Thames. But when he said he wouldn’t leave his wife, she got really angry with him. Threatened him.’

  ‘What with?’

  ‘She said she’d tell his wife.’

  ‘And did she?’

  Louise nodded.

  ‘I told her not to do it, but she was determined. She knew where he lived and sent the wife a letter saying her husband was having an affair.’

  ‘And that obviously didn’t work.’

  ‘Apparently not. But she wasn’t going to give up that easily.’

  She curled her slim arms around her legs and peered over the top of her knees.

  ‘About a week before Amy died, we went out for drinks. I asked her how it was going with Peter and she smiled this little smile, like she was really happy. I said, “Has he finally decided to leave his wife?” and she said no, but it was only a matter of time before he would.’

  ‘Why? She’d tried telling the wife and that didn’t work.’

  ‘She had something else on him. Something about his job.’

  ‘Do you know what it was?’ asked Sam.

  Louise shook her head.

  ‘Apparently one of Peter’s close friends had committed suicide a couple of months earlier. Peter was devastated about it. In fact he broke down in front of Amy. He was sobbing, saying, “it was my fault, it
was my fault”.’

  She took a breath.

  ‘Amy found something out about Peter and she told him she’d go to the press with it. She was blackmailing him. She was desperate for him to leave his wife, and that was the only way left she knew how to do it.’

  ‘She told you that?’

  Louise nodded.

  ‘I told her not to be stupid, but she was so headstrong.’ She started crying again. ‘If only I’d managed to persuade her, she’d still be alive. That drink. That was the last time I spoke to her. A week later, she was dead.’

  ‘Do you think Peter killed her?’

  ‘He paid for the flat so I assume he’d have a key. Even if he didn’t, Amy would have let him in. Maybe they just quarrelled. Maybe she slipped. Maybe it wasn’t murder but he just walked away without a second look back.’

  ‘What did Amy have on Peter? Do you know?’

  ‘I don’t know. If I did, then maybe I’d be dead too.’

  ‘Is that why you’re out here?’ asked Sam.

  She nodded.

  ‘When Amy died I got scared. Maybe I overreacted coming out here, but I just wanted to step back from it all. I guess I’m a coward.’

  She stood up stiffly and walked over to the shutters, pulling them open.

  ‘Rain’s stopped,’ she sniffed. ‘It does that. Over before you can blink. Now if you hurry, you can catch the five o’clock ferry.’

  47

  Sam and Anna didn’t speak at all on the boat back to Alappuzha. Raj was waiting for them at the dock, and they got into the taxi, each preoccupied by their thoughts.

  ‘Where to, boss? Ajunta?’ asked the driver.

  ‘Is Ajunta the hotel?’ asked Anna.

  Sam shrugged.

  ‘I guess. I asked Josh to book us somewhere off the tourist trail.’

  They were surprised when Raj turned the car out of the town and off the main road, swinging on to a series of dusty tracks where the jungle pressed in so far that palm fronds and creepers were brushing the sides of the taxi.

  ‘Certainly off the beaten track,’ said Anna, beginning to wonder where they were being taken. Finally they pulled up next to one of the canal-like waterways. Anna looked out of both sides of the car. She couldn’t see anything like a hotel anywhere.

  ‘Raj, where are we?’ asked Sam anxiously. The driver just grinned and held the door open.

  ‘Ajunta,’ he said, pointing to a boat. ‘In Kerala we call them ketuvallum. They’re the best places to stay when you are in this part of the world.’

  Sam didn’t look convinced until they stepped on board.

  ‘Wow,’ he whistled, looking around at the interior of the sumptuously crafted longboat. It was around one hundred feet in length with a curved roof made of jackwood and thatch. Arched windows were carved out of the beautifully panelled walls and it had an open stern and port. At the bottom of a short gangplank, two smiling women in cream saris were waiting for them with elaborate cocktails festooned with fruit.

  Raj brought the bags aboard and went over to talk to an ancient-looking man in a blue and white cap.

  ‘This is Captain Sanjiv, he will look after you tonight. I will meet the boat tomorrow, but if you need anything – anything at all,’ he added with a knowing wink, ‘just ask the Captain.’ He bowed and disappeared up the gangplank.

  ‘Sam, this is amazing,’ breathed Anna as they walked the length of the boat. There were two bedrooms; the largest had a dark wooden bed facing the open window, covered by just a thin curtain of voile, which looked out on to the still green waters.

  ‘You have this one,’ offered Sam. ‘I’ll slum it in the servants’ quarters,’ although the smaller room was no less luxurious, with a claw-foot bath and a walk-in shower room.

  They walked back and up on to the main deck, where a table had been set for dinner. Anna noticed that they were already moving down the waterway and they climbed some wooden stairs to the bridge, where the Captain was at the wheel, his eyes fixed ahead as they motored along the white waterlily-strewn waters.

  They both went to change before dinner, Anna putting on a turquoise dress she had picked up as they had rushed through the airport. Sam came on to the deck barefoot in a pair of chinos and a pale grey T-shirt. The sun had tanned his face, bringing out the blue of his eyes; it reminded Anna of that first time she had seen him standing at the rail of the yacht in Capri. She wondered how it was possible for one person to be so handsome.

  ‘Well I don’t know about you, but I need a drink,’ she said, sitting at the table, where chilled wine had been left for them in an ice bucket. They clinked their glasses together and watched the padi fields and coconut groves slip past, ancient temples silhouetted in the growing dusk. Anna felt herself shiver at the magic of it all. There was a platter of fruit on the table – starfruit, lychees, pineapple – and they picked at it in silence as the sun set below the horizon, sending the clouds pink and mauve and turning the ripples in the water a shimmering lavender, while the women lit candles along the length of the boat, spilling warm light across the deck.

  A steward brought out sweet-smelling curries in earthenware pots and laid them on the table. Anna tried a vegetable dish made of melting cubes of aubergine flavoured with lemongrass and coconut. She closed her eyes in delight.

  ‘This is just amazing,’ she said.

  ‘The food or the setting?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Both.’

  She looked at him, feeling that shiver again.

  ‘Apparently these things used to transport rice from the padi fields to the port. And not one nail was used to make the entire craft,’ she said quickly.

  Sam chuckled.

  ‘I like how you gather facts about where you visit.’

  ‘I wanted to be an explorer when I grew up. My dad used to be in the army and had travelled all over the world before he met my mum. The places he’d been stationed – Hong Kong, Cyprus, Brunei – they all sounded so exotic. I had this big globe in my bedroom that lit up at night and I’d dream about all the places I’d go one day. Funny thing is, the furthest I’ve been on holiday in the last three years is Crete for a week.’

  She stopped, knowing that she was babbling. She felt as if she was parachuting into a date situation for which she was woefully unprepared. She wanted the easy banter and jokiness of the aeroplane trip back, but it seemed to have been replaced by something else. Sexual tension? She was both terrified and thrilled by the prospect.

  They had finished eating. Sam went to sit on the white cushion at the bow of the boat and beckoned Anna to come and join him.

  ‘So do you think Peter had Amy killed?’ she asked, sitting down beside him. She said it both as a way of defusing the tension and because it had been weighing on her mind since they’d left Louise’s house.

  Sam took a sip of wine and looked thoughtful.

  ‘Possibly. It certainly sounds like Amy was prepared to cause him a lot of trouble to get what she wanted.’

  ‘I found that part of it a bit sad,’ said Anna. ‘She was in love with this guy and wanted him so much that she couldn’t see that blackmailing him to be with her was going to send him the opposite way.’

  ‘Love does the strangest things to you, though,’ he said, fixing her with those blue eyes.

  ‘How hard can it be finding a Peter who socialises with James Swann?’ she said, thinking out loud.

  ‘There’ll be hundreds of Peters in that rich corporate set.’

  ‘How many will have a good friend who committed suicide?’ She took a swig of her wine. ‘I definitely need to get to James Swann’s party.’

  ‘Let’s discuss that when we get back to London, because right now I don’t want to think about much at all.’ Sam picked up the bottle. ‘Another?’

  Why the hell not? thought Anna, holding up her glass.

  ‘I’m sorry I slept with Katie Grey,’ Sam said quietly.

  ‘I bet you are,’ said Anna. ‘Your girlfriend leaves you, your career implodes, and now your
lawyer’s dragging you into some murder mystery halfway around the world.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘My career will be fine. Jess and I should have finished months ago, and I’ve been to worse places than this amazing houseboat in the middle of Paradise.’

  ‘Nothing to worry about then.’

  ‘Except I don’t want you to think badly of me for being unfaithful to my fiancée and sleeping with a prostitute.’

  He looked at her, his confidence gone. He seemed nervous, almost bashful.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I think, does it?’

  ‘It does,’ he said. ‘Do you think I’m a sleazeball?’

  She couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘Maybe. A little bit. Before. But I think I know you a lot better now.’

  ‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘You know Mike has spent the last month persuading me to downsize and simplify my life. How come it’s suddenly got more complicated now that you’re in it?’

  A bolt of excitement rushed down her spine.

  Sam reached over and touched her fingers then stretched forward to brush her lips with his. His kiss was slow and seductive. In the creamy moonlight, Anna felt like a leading lady in some sweeping fifties romance. Her brain felt dizzy. Desperately she tried to recall the solicitor’s code of conduct. Was there anything in it that prohibited a sexual relationship between lawyer and client? She wasn’t sure, but right now she was certain of nothing except the sensation of his soft lips crashing against hers and the swell of desire that curled between her thighs.

  He took her hand and led her up the stairs to her bedroom on the mezzanine platform overlooking the backwaters. They were not even in the room before he had pulled off his T-shirt. Rule Three, Rule Three, a little voice told her. Did Rule Three forbid sex between lawyer and client? Not expressly, but it didn’t matter. Her resistance had evaporated.

  They tugged at each other’s clothes, kissing, tasting, fingers through hair, lips against skin. And then they were naked, her nervousness forgotten as they tumbled back on to the huge bed, the river breeze washing over them but doing little to cool their need.

  Laid back on the mattress, Anna’s eyes fluttered closed. Her thighs parted instinctively and Sam knelt between them, lowering himself to plant soft, tender kisses on her lips and neck. She groaned as his tongue moved south. He traced a circle around her swollen nipple, then took it in his mouth, sucking sweetly until his lips moved lower, over the curve of her belly, through her soft scrub of pubic hair. Gasping, she grabbed his hair to push him deeper. She cried out as his tongue lapped her clitoris; hard, firm strokes that sent an arrow of lust directly to her belly.